


The (Skunk) Thing

by SolamenteCelia



Series: Skunk musk erotica [3]
Category: Furry (Fandom)
Genre: F/F, F/M, Farting, M/M, Skunks, Transformation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2021-02-03
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:41:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 14,779
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28257846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SolamenteCelia/pseuds/SolamenteCelia
Summary: Antarctic researchers discover an alien artifact in the snow, only to learn it has a tendency to mutate people into sadistic, stinky beasts.Based on a request from a LOVELY donor
Series: Skunk musk erotica [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2157222
Kudos: 5





	1. (1/2)

Dr. Serena Longley leaned her weight against the door to counteract the harsh antarctic wind trying to force it to stay open. Her research assistant, Mark, had to rush to her side to add his weight. Finally, the thick, metallic door slammed shut, the steady stream of frigid air coming to a close with it. While Mark kept it held closed, Serena slid the primary latch—an inch-thick, five-inch wide slab of steel—shut.

Once Mark heard the primary latch slide into place, he released some of his weight off the door. Now it would take an extraordinarily rare gust of wind to rip the latch's slot off the wall it was welded into. As Serena secured into place second, tertiary, and even quaternary latches and ropes into place, the risk of that door ever swinging open due to a strong gust of wind approached zero.

Mark walked back to the counter by which he'd been standing and picked up the mug of coffee he'd been drinking before Dr. Longley entered. "Was it worth it?" he scoffed.

She pulled the balaclava off her head and gave him a look that suggested she wasn't going to tolerate his condescension—not that she had much of a choice for the next three months. Not saying a word, Serena reached into a pocket built into the inside of her jacket as she removed layer after layer of thick, winter clothing.

Something clattered onto the counter beside Mark, and he nearly dropped his coffee.

"You and everyone else thought I was crazy for saying that boom sounded close, like a meteor might've touched down not far from here," she said, still peeling off clothes right in front of the door, not wanting to risk overheating now that she was inside. "Take a look for yourself."

So he did. Mark leaned in closer at the rock-like object on the counter. It was dark gray-brown in color and looked to be about the size of a ping pong ball, except its texture was much more jagged and rough.

After examining it for a short while, he looked up at her. He was almost certain this was a rock she found somewhere else and was now just fucking with him. "How'd you find it?" Mark asked. "This tiny thing, in all that snow?"

"How do you think?" Serena said, finally pulling off her gloves, her last article of winter clothing. "It fell from space. There was a hundred-meter-wide crater, and this thing was right there in the center."

"It doesn't make any sense…" Mark muttered, now looking more like he was talking to himself rather than the scientist. "This thing should have burned up in the atmosphere like all other meteors of this size do."

Serena shrugged. "Maybe it's not an ordinary meteorite," she posited. "Maybe it's made of an uncommon mix of metals. Or maybe it's a fallen satellite. It does look to be about the right size to fit inside one of those CubeSat things. Maybe this is a component of one that fell out… Could've even once had something attached to it that acted as a parachute on the way down. Could explain why it's still in one piece and didn't burn up on the way down."

Mark was silent for a few seconds, just looking at the stone in amazement. "Incredible," he said. "Whatever it is, meteor, manmade, or something else entirely, the odds are astronomical—excuse the pun."

"It really is crazy," she admitted, now looking intently at the object as well.

"I gotta show the others," Mark said. "And once the storm clears, we should try to establish signal with homeland and ask them to find out what they can about falling CubeSats."

"You do that," Dr. Serena said, turning around. "I'm taking a hot shower. Try not to let the others damage my discovery."

Mark waved his arm in wordless acknowledgement of her as she walked off. After rolling the roughly spherical object around a couple times, he finally left the room to get the other researchers stationed at Antarctica Outpost.

———

The three stood around the island counter, all eye-level with the countertop.

"And you're sure she wasn't just messing with you and didn't just grab a rock from right outside?" Alan asked.

Mark replied, "If she was, she definitely didn't act like it. You can ask her yourself when she gets out of the shower, but I really didn't get the feeling that this was just a joke."

Joleen reached out and picked it up. "It does feel lighter than a rock its size should," she observed. "Maybe it's just a housing for electrical components. It could be part of a defunct CubeSat after all."

"Maybe…" Mark said slowly.

Without warning, Joleen then held the "meteorite" a couple feet above the counter and dropped it, causing Alan to instinctively jump back.

"Hey!" the research assistant exclaimed. "D-Dr. Longley told me not to let you guys damage it." The rock-like thing had bounced a couple times before coming to rest again on the countertop.

Joleen, a doctor and esteemed researcher herself, flashed Mark a smile and grabbed Serena's discovery again. "Don't you wanna see if there's anything inside?" She then cocked her right arm back, ball in hand, and hurled it at the countertop.

This time, it didn't bounce. It broke in half. Two half-spheres split apart from each other, emitting a loud hissing noise as it did so.

"Dr. Joleen!" Mark shouted, certain that she'd just cracked open a poison gas capsule and killed them all.

Instinctively, Alan and Mark covered their mouths and noses with their hands to try and block out some of the released air from entering their bodies. Joleen, however, was too taken aback by this unexpected result of her actions. She delayed in covering up her face, causing her to take in the unfiltered miasma that'd just seeped into the room.

It stunk. A bitterly foul odor filled Joleen's nostrils, making her feel like she was choking on the rancid gas. She recoiled and finally came to her senses, pressing her hands hard against her face. Still, the stench lingered.

After a few more seconds of stunned silence, Alan was the first person to dare remove his hands. He quickly replaced them. "It smells like my college roommate," he commented.

Mark inhaled through the gaps between his fingers. "You're right…" he said, "it does kinda smell like weed, or coffee. Or skunk."

"I definitely feel like I just got sprayed by a skunk," Joleen complained, now feeling lightheaded.

Alan looked back and forth between the other two. "I'm not from your country. What's this?"

"Skunk?" said Mark. "It's an animal in North America. It's infamous because when threatened, it sprays this stinky juice from its rear. It actually smells a lot like this stuff."

"Can skunks survive in Antarctica?" Alan asked.

The other two chuckled. "No," Mark said, "and as far as I know, they don't come in pellet form, either. It must just be a coincidence that this thing smells like skunk."

"Oh."

"Anyone see where the other half went?" Mark asked. One half of the hollow sphere still remained on the counter.

Joleen tried to bend over and look, but she quickly sighed and stood up straight again. "I think I need to lie down," she said, finally taking her hands off her nose. The smell had dissipated. "That first whiff really just did a number on me." She turned to leave the room.

"I should watch her," Alan told Mark. "Could've been carbon monoxide in there, and that's making her feel lethargic."

"Good call," Mark said, bending over and setting the other half of the apparent gas capsule on the counter. "I'll go find Serena and tell her… what happened here."

Alan nodded, and both the men went their separate ways.

———

Mark knocked on the door to the doctor's private sleeping quarters.

"Just a second!" she called.

Almost a minute later, the door slid open. Behind it was Dr. Serena, a bathrobe around her body and a towel wrapped over her hair. "What do you need, Mark?" she asked.

"It's about the rock you found. Joleen, um… She broke it, ma'am."

"She what?" Serena hissed. "How?!"

"She threw it at the countertop, Dr. Longley, and it broke in two. It turned out to be hollow and filled with this noxious gas."

Her anger turned to worry. "Oh no. Is everyone ok?"

"Yes, ma'am, it seems like it. Joleen said she felt a bit lightheaded, but the only harm done to Alan or me came from the smell."

"The smell?"

"It smelled disgusting, ma'am," Mark reported. "Like, weed. Or skunk."

"Hmm…" Serena brought her hand to her chin as she thought. "Must indicate sulfurous compounds, possibly thiols."

Mark wasn't totally sure what she was talking about, but the part about sulfur made sense to him.

After a quick moment of silence, she looked up at him again. "Well, when Joleen feels better, I want you to tell her to come talk to me. I need to have a chat with her about respecting other researchers' findings…"

"Yes ma'am," said the assistant. "I'll go check in on her now."

"Thanks, Mark," Dr. Serena said before shutting the door to her quarters.

Mark started down the hall, but before he could quite make it to the sleeping quarters he shared with the other two, Alan stopped him.

"Mark! There you are!" he said, hurrying to join him in the hall.

"I was only gone a minute."

"I know," Alan said, "but there's something going on with Joleen."

"What? What is it?"

"She's growing hair—"

"Hair?" Mark interrupted.

"—all over her body. It's weird, man. You gotta come check it out." He tried to grab on to Mark's wrist but he resisted.

"What am I supposed to do? I'm not a doctor!"

"Just come and look at her!" Alan insisted.

Despite some resistance from Mark, Alan successfully yanked the other man into the common sleeping quarters. When they got there, however, Joleen was nowhere to be seen. There was a depression in the couch where she'd been lying just moments ago, but no doctor in sight.

"I-I don't get it," Alan stammered. "She was just here, complaining about the itching and the headache…"

As they stood in the doorway, there was a growl behind them. The two turned to look at the source, but all they saw was jagged, black fur before they were both doused with and blinded by a deluge of yellow mist. The quantity of it was so great that they both thought they'd been clobbered in the face with a water balloon.

In an instant, Mark and Alan were rendered blind by a wave of intensely foul fluid squirted directly into their faces. They stumbled back into the sleeping quarters as they wrestled with the stench. It was sinus-destroyingly abhorrent. It smelled distinctly skunk-like, and just like what they'd smelled when Joleen busted that rock open, except thousands, millions of times worse. Its disgusting tendrils of odor forced its way up their nostrils and into their brains.

Mark stumbled backwards and sprawled back on the floor while Alan recoiled back onto the couch. Both men were shouting and screaming in disgust, but all that seemed to do was invite that putrid spray to drip down their faces and into their mouths.

Before he could even make sense of what he'd just been sprayed with, the next thing Mark noticed was Alan's screaming, letting loose profanity after profanity. Squinting to see in spite of his searing eyes, Mark could just barely make out was happening.

Some black and white creature—presumably the one who'd released this abhorrent stench—had pounced on top of Alan and was now holding him down. Mark was pretty sure what it was going to do to him. He'd seen this before in a 1982 film. Taking advantage of the fact that its attention was currently on Alan and not himself, Mark silently stood up and hurried off to find Dr. Serena.

"You fucker!" Alan shouted as his coworker left him presumably to die. He was still fighting off the creature as it slowly, almost sensually, advanced on him. Its hands on his chest to hold him down against the couch, it climbed forward until it was right on top of him.

Squinting through the unholy stench, Alan could finally make out some of its features.

Although the creature's build was fit and lean, he was straining to breathe from the pressure placed on him by her hands. Blunt claws poked hard into his flesh. It was a sensation that made him feel powerless. He suspected that he weighed more than it did and could throw it off under normal circumstances, but the maddening stench and weight sapped away his resolve.

The creature, its head now positioned just above his, looked down into his eyes. As the blindness gradually subsided, Alan could make out more and more of its features. It looked mostly human, but the face—just like the rest of it—was covered in thick, black fur, apart from a section running from the tip of its nose up over the back of its head.

As he looked more closely, it started to seem more and more familiar. It had green eyes and shoulder-length straight, black hair. The glint from an overhead ceiling light off something metallic in her hair finally made him remember. A coworker of his had that same golden hairpin.

The pieces snapped together. The hair pin, the hair growth. This was his coworker.

"Joleen…?"

The dawning dread that came with witnessing his acquaintance lose her sense of self made his stomach lurch—as if he couldn't be more utterly nauseated by the thick, putrid air.

After looking down at him for a few seconds more, the skunk-like creature sat up and then spun around on his chest. For a moment, a large, black-and-white striped appendage covered Alan's face, making him feel like he was trapped with the stench pressed up against his skin. But then, it slowly began to lift up, and he could see his former coworker's rear, also covered in black fur. It would appear she'd shed her clothes at some point during her transformation to make room for her new fur.

His body's instinctual reaction was to hyperventilate at the panic that boiled over in his chest. It only served to draw in more retch-inducing fumes. This was absolutely the number one worst position this creature could put him in. A helpless, dreadful whine leapt from his throat. This monster wouldn't show him mercy, and he knew it.

Though he thought for sure that he was about to receive a second round of what he and the deserter assistant researcher Mark had received moments ago, he was almost pleasantly surprised (weirdly enough), when he was instead met with a soft blast of warm air. Accompanied by a whistle, presumably from her asshole, it blew into Alan's nostrils as well as up his face, even blowing back his hair a little bit.

Though it was clear from context that she'd just farted on him, he had trouble believing it. That seemed to be an unconventional way of subduing prey—or whatever he was now to this beast. Just as he was thinking what else this could be if not a fart, the smell hit him. Now it was undeniable. The sulfuric smell of rotten eggs flooded his nostrils, utterly grossing him out. He wished he could pinch his nose or at least fan away the air in front of his face, but the weight of the mutated Joleen's thighs held him firmly in place. Alan would absolutely take this ass gas over that repulsive musk a hundred times out of a hundred, but the lesser of two evils in this case was still quite foul-smelling.

The skunk lady's abdomen rumbled a bit, and then she really let loose.

_Brrraappppppptt!_

Alan, through some miracle, hadn't felt any urge to vomit at any point during this whole encounter, but this finally made him gag. It smelled just like the previous release of gas, except it exceeded the last one in terms of odor intensity, force, and sound tenfold. He'd grown up with three older brothers, and yet the one released just now by the skunk creature perched on his chest was hands down the most vile. It had other hints to its odor aside from just rotten eggs, but that sulfuric stink was by far the most potent smell.

The creature looked over its shoulder at Alan as if admiring its own work. It didn't smile or do much of anything else apart from stare. In the brief moment that he could open his eyes long enough to look at it, Alan felt like his reaction was simply being observed by her. Perhaps, if this thing did come from space as Dr. Serena purported, this was the alien's way of probing him.

Then, the dreaded inevitable happened. Two pink glands extended from that thing's asshole, and from them came two concentrated streams of the unholy musk he'd been sprayed with earlier. The fluid landed first on his chin, then made its way up all the way to his forehead. Due to the angle, some even went straight up his nostrils, no doubt cursing him to have no choice but to inhale that stink for weeks to come.

The misery Alan experienced in that moment was indescribable. The closest comparison he could make would be having boiling water poured into one's sinuses, though maybe some kind of harsh acid would be more apt. The stench was utterly revolting. It was like some sick mix of burning garbage, rotting flesh, singed hair, and festering excrement. Nothing in the world could ever match the hell his nostrils were in at that moment.

Once the sludge made it into his nose, he almost didn't notice as it moved up to his eyes. Though he was wise enough to close his eyes in anticipation of this, they still stung badly as they were sprayed. Perhaps some fluid had seeped past his eyelids, or maybe the stuff was just so caustic that it irritated even the exterior skin of his eyelids.

He screamed again, this time louder than ever. With such anguish in his nostrils and no way to immediately relieve the pain, one could hardly blame him for simply trying to vocalize his distress.

The smell continued to fester in his nose, every breath somehow making it worse and worse. Finally, he couldn't hold it back anymore. He gagged, and this alarmed the skunk creature enough to stand up off his chest. Leaning over the side of the couch, Alan puked up everything he'd had to eat that day. No way at all did he even have a hope of keeping that down after what the sadistic beast did to his sense of smell.

"Joleen" just watched, again with that neutral, observational look, as Alan puked. It didn't look pleased with its work, nor did it look guilty; it just looked.

Finally, after several rounds of vomit made its way up the poor man's throat and onto the floor, he looked up at the skunk. The moment they locked eyes, she pounced on him again. He had a feeling he knew what he was in for: more of the same. He couldn't imagine though how it could possibly get worse than what he'd already been through.

As she once again sat down on his chest, he tried with what he thought was renewed strength to throw her off. He thought there was no way this could get worse for him, and so he tried as hard as he could to push her ass and legs off of him.

Despite his best attempt, throwing up had made him feel even weaker than before. She wouldn't budge. After just seconds of attempting to shove her, he gave up. At least this time she was facing him, not away from him. He wouldn't be getting a faceful of skunk juice this time.

However, as he stared up into her eyes and she stared down into his, he felt a trickle of fluid onto his neck. Lifting his head off the couch some just to get a good look, Alan saw what was going on. She was pissing on him!

"Hey!" Alan shouted, weakly slapping at her knee. "Knock it off!"

She didn't do as he said. She kept on peeing, her stream eventually gathering up enough strength to touch down on his chin and even get in his mouth.

"Pff! Puh! Gross!" he sputtered, trying to spit the urine out of his mouth. To no one's surprise, she continued to ignore him. Hot, stinky piss ran down Alan's neck and chest, no doubt going on to stain the couch beneath them.

Finally, her stream began to taper off. After maybe thirty straight seconds of constant pissing, it lost some of its strength until it could only make it to his neck. Then, it died entirely.

Alan looked up at the skunkified Joleen in bewildered annoyance. He was thankful it was piss as opposed to that unbearable skunk musk, but if it were up to him he wouldn't have been splashed with any fluids that night. "What the hell!"

For the first time that he could see that night, she broke eye contact with him first. She averted her gaze from his eyes and instead seemed to focus on his neck. Alan had no idea why she was doing this… until he felt the itching.

Looking down at his chest, he could see the first sprouts of jet-black fur popping out of his chest right where he'd been urinated upon.

He could feel himself starting to hyperventilate again. The itching spread. Starting from his clavicle, it made its way up his neck, over his chin, and before too long he could watch as the peripheral boundaries of his vision were marked by black fur.

At the same time, fur was sprouting up in the opposite direction. Within just seconds his entire chest went from itching to feeling as if his shirt were a size too small. It'd appear that the addition of fur also added a far amount of volume, and now his shirt felt tight.

The ripple of itching kept on spreading, engulfing his entire head and all the way down to his toes. He winced as it spread down the shaft of his dick, then stopped just as it reached the head. Almost immediately after, as the fur moved to spread over his ass, he felt a pressure against the back of his pants. It continued to grow until, finally, there was a great ripping sound from the seat of his jeans. A massive, bushy new appendage burst out. He watched as it extended off the couch and came to rest on the floor.

He looked up at the woman who'd done this to her. No longer was she staring at him with that sterile, uncaring expression. She was smiling.

Alan noticed that he was no longer breathing heavily. Looking up at her smiling face, he couldn't help but smile too. He tried to say something to her, but found that he couldn't. He could only make chirp-like vocalizations. That didn't bother him though.

The itching had subsided. He was now covered head to toe in black and white fur. He couldn't wait to look in a mirror and admire the brilliant white stripes now running down his back.

But that would have to wait for now. He knew he had to find the others. He was excited to show off his new gift, and hopefully share it with them as well. He knew he could stop at nothing to convert them into his and Joleen's beautiful new species.

Joleen nodded at him, and the two headed to go find Mark and Serena. They didn't need words anymore to communicate. Their shared goal was understood. As Alan hurried off at Joleen's side, he felt a pressure gradually grow in his bladder.

———

"Stop, Mark!" Dr. Longley commanded. "It's not funny! I've already seen this movie, so you're not gonna get me."

"Get you?!" he shouted back. "How do you explain this?" He wiped some of the stinking oil off his face and held the musk-soaked fingers out for her to see.

"Get that away from me!" she barked. She'd been covering her nose and mouth since the moment he entered the room. "Like I said, that's probably your bong resin or something."

"Bong resin?! Take a good sniff and tell me that isn't skunk spray!" He took a step closer to her with his hand extended out in front.

Serena gagged as he came closer. Unable to speak, she waved him away. Giving her a moment, Mark took a few steps back and dropped his arm to his side. "Listen, I saw it! I mean, I only got a glimpse, but a giant, black-and-white monster jumped on Alan after it sprayed both of us. It must've already gotten to Joleen, too! You gotta grab the flare gun down the hall, before it's too—"

There was a knock at the door to Serena's quarters. Now recovered from her gagging fit, the doctor looked at Mark. She saw the true terror in his eyes. How unfortunate; he must not be in on the joke too.

Serena made her way over to the door. "Let me handle this." Sliding the lock to the side, she slowly swung the door away from her to open it.

It swung open an inch. She could see no one on the other side. She pushed it another inch. No one. Then, it swung the rest of the way open. Although Serena was quick to try to yank it back towards her again, there was clearly someone else with a grip on the outside handle yanking it toward themselves.

The door now fully open, Dr. Serena could see what awaited her on the other side: a feminine figure covered in black fur, facing away from her, all hands and feet planted firmly on the floor of the research station. A large, black-and-white striped appendage—what Serena assumed to be the tail—floated over the rear.

She could hardly even process what was going on before the very ability to think was stripped away from her. Two pink nubs extended from the asshole of the furred creature in front of her, and yellow fluid spurted out.

_Psssst!_

Body-temperature musk landed on her face and chest, soaking her clothes with the fetid thiols. In an instant, the smell struck her. It was what she'd smelled Mark scrape off his face, except more concentrated and disgusting than ever.

She screamed. Using all her strength and seemingly catching Alan on the other side of the door off-guard, she was able to yank the door shut at last. This, of course, did nothing to help the stink she was now coated in.

Perhaps against her better judgment and without concern for the longevity of her belongings, Serena hurried, eyes watering and face stinging, over to her bed, grabbed the first blanket she found, and did her best to wipe as much of the musk off her face as she could.

"I tried to warn you!" Mark accosted Dr. Longley. "There's something otherworldly in this base! It's time to fight back!"

"I know," Serena said. "I—"

The sound of the door creaking open was deafening. In her haste to remove the skunk juice from her face, Serena had forgotten to lock the door behind her. And that had sealed their fate.

While Serena was lucky enough to back up against the wall as she heard it slide open, Mark was standing right in the center of the room. As the two skunk beasts burst into the room, their focus was entirely set on Mark.

The feral monsters known formerly as Alan and Joleen charged Mark, knocking him down on the bed. He thrashed around trying to get free, but the female one held him down. Meanwhile, the male stood off to the side of the bed, his furry cock in his hand.

Serena had no choice but to watch on in horror as the naked skunk-people had their way with him. She covered her mouth to keep herself from screaming as she watched the first drops of golden liquid drip from the tip of Alan's dick and onto Mark's chest. Mark, of course, shouted up at the man pissing on him, but the skunk did not respond nor stop peeing.

Gyrating his hips some, Alan was careful to coat as much of his former coworker in his musty urine as he could. Bit by bit, the white fabric of Mark's top turned a sickly dark yellow.

It was what happened next that Dr. Serena truly could never foresee. Just as the male skunk's piss stream tapered off, black fur popped out from Mark's shirt collar, and then from other parts of his body. The exact same transformation process Alan had gone through was happening now to Mark, except expedited thanks to the wide area Alan had covered with his piss.

Before she could work up the courage to run away, Serena found herself sharing the room with three anthropomorphic skunks.

That realization finally drove her to action. Staying in a crouched position to hopefully evade detection, she crept over to the door and pushed it open.

_Crreeeeeeaaakk._

She'd forgotten just how loud that door was. She never quite got around to lubricating the hinges.

At once, all three skunks turned to look at the woman squatting just in front of the door. There was a standoff that lasted all of a second, then, all chirping and growling in excitement, they descended on her.

Serena screamed as they yanked her back into her own bedroom. She knew exactly what fate awaited her in there.

At last, she was set down on the floor, sitting her up against one of the cold, metallic walls. One of the male skunks walked over to the door and, unlike Serena, actually locked it. He then joined the other two.

She looked up at the three skunks before her. The female was directly in front, while the men stood on either side of her. They looked almost as if they were contemplating what to do next.

That matter was not as much of a mystery for Serena. She knew exactly what was coming—or so she thought.

The female spun around and bent over slightly to present rear to Serena. Dr. Longley pushed her head as far back against the wall as she could and shut her eyes as hard as she could. But what came next was not at all what she expected.

_BBLLLLLLPPPPPT!!_

Hot, rotten air bombarded Serena's face. She never thought she could feel the force or temperature of a fart before, but here she was. As if there were any doubt or possibility that she may have just been sprayed, the stink of rotting vegetables made it absolutely clear that the skunkified Joleen had just passed gas right into her face.

Serena turned her head to the side to cough, only to be met with body-temperature oil flung onto her chest. Opening her eyes for just a second before being blinded, she saw the fleshy glands of one of the male skunks retreating back into his anus.

Thrashing in pain at her second time being sprayed, Serena whipped her head to the left. As soon as she did, another fetid mist pelted her defenseless face.

She couldn't believe it. This was the worst, most painful thing she'd ever smelled, and yet she hadn't thought to cover her face or even pinch her nose. She hurriedly did so, as if the horrendous stink weren't already burnt into her mind.

The moment she did, hot streams of skunk musk from both her left and right bore into the backs of her hands. At long last, she realized what their wordless message to her was: look directly ahead at the woman in front of you. Turning your head to the side or covering your nose will only result in being sprayed again.

Shakily, and against everything her body was screaming at her to do, she lowered her hands. She dropped them to her lap and, thanks to the torrent of tears rinsing just enough skunk essence out, she opened her eyes.

To her great relief, she was not sprayed. She couldn't believe it, but she'd actually managed to decipher what these mute creatures wanted out of her. She'd marvel at just how great of a scientist she was, if she hadn't noticed the female skunk's asshole start to pucker again.

_BBFFFFFFF!!_

The fart was so powerful that it blew Serena's hair back. Even more impressive than the force, though, was the odor. Dr. Serena could tell this one came from deep within the skunk woman's guts. The stench of shit in this poot was so strong that it could only have formed somewhere deep inside her colon. But the use of her detective skills was cut off as Joleen unleashed a volley of follow-up farts.

_Pfff!_

_Brrrrpptt…_

_FFRRRRRRRTTTTT!!_

That last one packed the greatest punch. It was an unholy amalgamation of everything she'd been pelted with thus far. The sulfur-infused eggs, the rotting vegetables, the festering shit: It all coalesced into that final blast. Even the two skunks at her side had to pinch their noses.

Serena couldn't help it. Halfway through that last fart, she turned her head to the side. She'd prided herself all her life on her tough stomach and resistance to nausea, but this was too much even for her. That vile fart, mixed with the rest of the miasma infesting her bedroom, finally made her gag.

Predictably, she was squirted with a tight stream of skunk musk. Gagging more intensely now thanks to the spraying, Serena did correct her behavior and face forward once again.

The skunk lady in front of her stood up straight again and—as if answering Dr. Serena's prayers—turned around to face her again. She was certain she couldn't take much more of the torment that spewed out of that bum.

The two men looked to the woman in the middle. They exchanged a few quick chirps, then Joleen nodded. The men took a step closer to Serena, who at this point was still struggling against the urge to vomit all over the floor.

Serena winced at her current predicament. She was now eye level with their skunky cocks. She tried to look away, but stopped as she noticed something. They were growing harder.

One of the men wrapped a hand around his quickly growing penis, then the other did as well. They pointed them at her face, and Serena was now staring down the fully engorged dicks of two of these skunk men.

Before she could draw the connection between what she'd watched happen to Mark and what was about to happen to her, the first drop of piss made contact with her chest. Both of the men started to empty their bladders all over Dr. Longley. The two skunks took turns aiming up and down her body.

She could fight it no longer. During her final moments as her unaltered self, she looked up at the lady skunk behind the two men. She looked to be smiling.

Serena wanted to start smiling too. Perhaps this really wasn't so bad. Her lips broke out into a grin as she reached up to itch her chest.


	2. (2/2)

The helicopter closed in on Antarctica Outpost.

It had been a full week since the storm jamming the base's radio communications had lifted, yet the South American team charged with remotely managing the Antarctic research station hadn't gotten a single transmission from the crew manning it in all that time. Oddly enough, the station's computers did return their pings, so crews back home knew that the Outpost had to still have power. The eerie silence from its crew, however, led some to speculate the worst.

As long as seven whole days may sound just to assemble a rescue crew to head out to Antarctica, it really was record time for the entire research group. They got to work the moment they realized something was amiss with the scientists. Flying in experts from all over the world and chartering a polar vessel complete with a helicopter took a good few days, then the actual trip from Argentina to the base's location in a remote part of Antarctica took another four.

The rescue team, one woman and two men, set out on their helicopter the minute their ship made it within range. The missing Antarctic scientists had become an international news story, and everyone—rescuers included—wanted to know what had happened. This, however, meant leaving the ship just as the sun was setting.

"That's weird," the pilot, Rob, commented as they approached the base's coordinates. "The station is showing up on the thermal radar. It's… warm—hot, really, when you compare it to the surrounding area."

They were all silent for a moment, then Maria spoke. "That's not totally unexpected. We knew that the station must've still had power, since their radios were able to ping us back. The weird thing is that nobody's been getting on the radio to talk to us."

The rest of the team was silent until they touched down on the base's helipad. Rob was delegated to stay behind and keep the helicopter running while everyone else went in and investigated. Shutting the vehicle off entirely risked letting its parts freeze up in the frigid air.

"You ready?" Jordan asked Maria.

She nodded, then turned to their pilot. "Make sure to keep your radio on. We'll keep you updated."

"Please do," Rob replied.

Maria zipped up the last zipper of her jacket, then told Jordan, "Alright, open the door."

He did as told, and in doing so invited a rush of freezing Antarctic wind into the helicopter. She tightened her ski goggles before following Jordan outside.

The helipad was only a few dozen meters from the entrance to the research station, so the two only had to trek through the icy wind for a minute or so before reaching the main door.

The entire team knew going into this that this exact point of entry would likely be their greatest obstacle to the rescue. In all likelihood, it would still be securely locked from the inside with no way of unlocking it from outside. Their best bet would be to just weld it off its hinges entirely, and that could take days and days of work.

Taking a deep breath, Jordan reached a hand out and pushed on the massive, reinforced door.

Nothing. It didn't budge a bit.

With a sigh, he tried a bit harder. Then, Maria joined in and pushed as hard as she could against it. Still nothing. She tried banging against it in hopes of grabbing the attention of someone else inside. They waited another thirty seconds hoping someone would answer the door, but no one did. Disappointed, Maria reached for the radio on her hip.

"Hey, Rob?" she spoke into it. "The door is locked tight. We're gonna head back to the chopper and grab some welding tools, over."

"But won't it take hours and hours of work to get that thing open? I don't have enough fuel to keep the 'copter running that long, over."

"Doesn't mean we can't get started," Maria replied. "Maybe we can get one of the hinges done before we have to head in for the night, over."

"Fair enough," said Rob. "Come on back, over."

Jordan and Maria made their way back to the helicopter, slid open one of the external compartments, and started unloading supplies they'd need to make a dent in that heavy door's hinges.

Once at the entrance again, Maria knelt down in the snow and held the propane torch in front of her. When she went to steady herself by resting her weight against the door, however, she thought she felt it give just a bit.

She thought that was odd. Just a moment ago it resisted any and all movement. She tried resting more of her weight on it and, to her absolute shock, it started to move.

"Jordan!" she shouted to grab his attention. "Push with me!" Maria set her torch down in the snow and pushed her whole shoulder in the cold metal of that door. With Jordan's help, it actually managed to swing open.

As the warm air greeted them at the entrance, however, so did something else. An absolutely foul mephitis blasted them both in the face, holding back nothing as it did so. There was little doubt as to what the likely source of that stench would be: a decomposing corpse.

"Rob!" Maria exclaimed into her radio once the door was open wide enough for them to get through. "The door opened!" She took her finger off the talk button as she coughed into her sleeve due to the smell. "Uh, over."

"What? But I thought you just said—"

"I know, but it's open now. It's like it's been unlocked, or maybe we just loosened it with all our pushing earlier?"

"I highly doubt that…" said Jordan, looking around the room they found themselves in. It was pitch-black, so he grabbed the flashlight off the vest under his jacket and shined it around the room, then used it to peek down a hall. Nothing looked too out of the ordinary.

"Either way, we've gained entrance to the facility," she continued as she worked with Jordan to shut the door again. "And, Rob, it completely stinks in here. It smells kind of like… decomposition. Over."

"Dear God," came his voice over the radio. "I was afraid we were too late, over."

"We don't know for sure yet," Maria insisted. "Not until we find human remains, over." She started slowly down the hall away from the door.

"Yeah, well, let's hope kzzzzh…"

"Rob?" Maria said into her radio, now covering her nose with her shirt collar. She stood still, hoping to re-establish contact. When she still couldn't hear him, she took a few steps backwards until her back was almost pressed against the door again.

"Maria, you there? Over." She could finally hear the helicopter pilot's voice again.

"Yeah, I hear you. It seems like the only place in here where I have radio contact with you is right by the door. I guess I'll make my way back here if I have any updates for you, over."

"Right, sounds good," Rob said. "Be safe, over."

And with that, Maria shut her radio off. She turned to Jordan, who had started to use his jacket sleeve to cover his nose. "You know what I just realized?" he asked.

"Hm?"

"It's probably warm enough to shed a layer or two."

Maria stood still for a moment to really let the temperature wash over her. He wasn't wrong. It was still chill, perhaps just a few degrees below comfortable, but still nowhere near as cold as the Antarctic air just outside. Deciding that keeping on all these layers would probably make her overheat before too long, Maria decided to shed her windbreaker jacket and continue on in her winter sweater.

"Maybe the primary heating is out, but some backup climate control is still going?" Jordan suggested.

"Yeah, possibly…" Maria said. "But let's not speculate anymore. Let's try to find those four."

Jordan nodded, and they set off down the hall again. He took point with his flashlight pointed in front of them. As they kept moving, the stench seemed to only intensify to the point that they came to dread every step they took. Never before had either of them smelled something quite like that.

"Good Lord," Jordan said, now dropping his shirt and instead opting to block his nostrils with the back of his hand.

"Have some respect," Maria said from behind. "You might be smelling the remains of deceased scientists."

"Yeah, I know," he replied, turning a corner. "It's just so— AGH!"

He jumped back, nearly knocking Maria on her ass in the process. "What the hell!" she scolded him before seeing what had made him jump.

A huge mass of coarse, black fur was just feet in front of them on the other side of the hallway corner. Two stark, white lines cut through the grove of matted dark fur, giving the overall heap a striped, monochromatic appearance.

"What… the fuck…?" Maria whispered. She knew they could run across the lifeless bodies of the station's former residents, but this was a type of disturbing she never expected to find.

"Is that a dog?" Jordan asked. "I don't remember there being any canines on the team roster."

"There weren't any. And that's too big to be a dog anyway."

"Then what—?"

"Don't touch it!" Maria scolded as he leaned in with a hand outstretched.

"How else are we going to know—"

Before he could complete his thought, the fluffy mass moved, its largest, fluffiest appendage lifted, and in an instant it was as if Maria and Jordan had been transported to an entirely different reality.

In this dimension, every sensation was overwhelming and agonizingly painful. The face, mouth, and eyes all stung awfully. It was like they'd both just had bleach injected under the skin. There was no sight, but not for lack of light. The searing pain was simply too extreme for them to open their eyes. Both Jordan and Maria thought they were screaming in misery and repulsion, but they couldn't hear anything. So much input was coming in from all their other senses that it drowned out their hearing.

And the smell. Something that nasty, disgusting, revolting, ungodly had never been inflicted upon a set of nostrils before, they were both sure of it. Words wouldn't do that stench justice. It was like someone had extracted the residue from a heavily used and never washed bong, mixed it with sewer water, then boiled all that down to its concentrated essence. It was like that, except thousands of times worse and combined with the burning sensation of hydrofluoric acid. It was the zenith of human suffering, and it was abysmal.

Naturally, the two immediately spun around and sprinted in the opposite direction of the reanimated dark mass. They didn't know exactly where they were going, but that didn't matter. All that mattered was putting as much space between themselves and that thing as possible.

Their strategy had its faults, however. In their mad scramble to run as far and as fast as possible, they found themselves splitting up and going in different directions. Before the vision-impaired rescuers could even realize they'd drifted apart, it was too late.

"Jordan, this way," Maria whispered to nobody at all as she found an unlocked door, held it open for her imagined co-worker to hurry through, then stepped through herself. She felt around for a lock on the door handle but could find none.

"What the fuck was that?" Maria groaned as she felt up and down the wall for some kind of light switch. After a few seconds of being unable to find it, she finally gave up and took the flashlight from her tactical vest and shined it around.

The first thought she had, apart from the realization that she wasn't accompanied by Jordan as she thought, was that this medium-sized room had to be the one that the creature was using as its restroom. The metallic walls were streaked with fluids of varying shades of yellow. They ranged from a light, hay-yellow color to a dark, nigh brown hue. On the floor were countless puddles of what looked to be urine, and in the far corner of the room…

If she wasn't already on the verge of vomiting after what she'd been spattered with earlier, she definitely was now. The woman collapsed to her hands and knees, accidentally setting her palm in a cold puddle of liquid, and dry heaved. After a couple rounds of retching, her stomach acid finally came up and added to the yellow-green-brown palette of colors in that room.

Finally, after a minute or so, she was able to gather herself enough to rise at least to her knees. After feeling around for the flashlight and shining it around some more, she noticed that this particular room must have once been the base's recreation room. In the nearest corner was a knocked-over exercise bike, and the floor along one of the walls was lined with weights. On the opposite side of the room was a television screen with some sort of video game console setup below it. Lastly, there was a white louver door on one of the walls. Perhaps it led to a way out.

She stood up to go investigate the potential exit when she heard a sound come from behind her. It sounded as if someone had just bumped against the other side of the door. It had found her.

Hurrying to her feet in spite of her bout of nausea just moments ago, she shut off her flashlight before quickly, and as silently as she could, making her way over to the door on the opposite end of the room. The stench of shit from the corner of the room was stronger here, but that wouldn't matter so long as she could make her escape.

But she wasn't going to be making her escape. That door led to a closet.

By the time this realization dawned on her, it was too late. The beast—or beasts, as it turned out to be—had gained entry. She had no choice but to force herself into that cramped area and pray those unnatural beings didn't find her.

She held her breath as the two things entered. To her surprise, they entered carrying a light source of their own. It looked to be one of the standard kerosene lamps all Antarctic expedition teams were sent off with just in case their electric ones failed, except there was something off about this flame. It brought with it the most foul burning odor Maria had ever smelled. Were they burning that same substance she and Jordan were sprayed with earlier? She had to pinch her nose shut or risk dry heaving yet again.

As the two sets of feet made their way around the room, Maria was slowly able to make out more and more of them illuminated by the stench lamp. She could only make out glimpses of them at a time through the slats in the door, but over time she started to piece together a cohesive picture. One had a distinctly feminine figure—wider chest, thin waist, and thick hips—while the other looked to be a male. Oddest of all, they seemed to be covered in the same coarse, black-and-white fur as the lump she and Jordan found in the hallway. And that was when she started to connect the dots.

Black and white fur, incredibly foul musk, and urinating and defecating in a room like a cat in a litter box: they were skunks! They certainly didn't look like any skunks Maria had seen or heard of before. These were monstrosities that looked to be formed from the splicing of a person's DNA with that of the famously foul-smelling animal.

Before she could even begin to ponder how such horizontal gene transfer could ever happen at a research base in the Antarctic, there was a sound coming from just feet away on the other side of the door.

_Prrrrrmmfff…_

"What the hell was that?" Maria thought to herself, still careful to stay silent. "It sounded almost like a—"

Her very ability to think was cut off when that smell hit her. A stinking wave of hot air washed over her in that closet. It was as if the gas didn't care that she was pinching her nose; it was getting into her nostrils anyway. It had that stomach-churning rotten egg stench to it that always defined the very worst farts. It was clear pretty soon who was responsible for the nastiest-smelling dung in the corner of that room: the exact same person who'd just stunk up that closet.

She couldn't hold it back anymore. She dropped her head forward as her stomach compelled her to gag yet again. She took her hand off her face to make room for the expected torrent of vomit, but that only exposed her to the full ferocity of that fart.

She watched through teary eyes as the female skunk creature on the other side of the room scampered over to the closet. She made chirping sounds at her male counterpart as if congratulating him for such an excessively foul breaking of wind. He chirped back, then rattled the wooden closet door. He was pointing Maria out to her.

It was clear her cover was blown, and now her only hope was to flee from here. She pushed on the closet door, but it only moved an inch before being stopped in its tracks by the male skunk's burly foot.

"No!" Maria shouted at it. "Let me out!"

Verbally protesting must have been a step out of line, because the next thing she knew, sticky liquid was squirted through the door's wooden slats and drenched her chest. It was so disgustingly wet and made her sweater cling to her skin.

The experience was just as awful and brain-melting as the one she shared with Jordan, except now there was no escape, and the tight room left her nowhere to run from it. She was forced to endure that sick mephitis and inhale it into her lungs.

Before she could recover even slightly, the wood of the door rattled as if someone else's fur-covered ass had just been pressed against. Then…

_Prbbbt!_

A squeaky yet deadly toot was released into the confined space that was starting to look more and more like Maria's tomb. At the very least, it was the world's most unbreathable hotbox. She was starting to feel light-headed, and that's when the two skunks started tag-teaming her. The door rattled yet again as the male got himself situated.

_Fbbbrrrrt!_

His were distinctly more aggressive, more noisy, and more toxic. Perhaps it was just a stereotype that men fart more and have worse-smelling gas than women do, but in this case, the stereotype was absolutely right. His were a whole new level of vile previously unknown to the poor Maria. His sour-smelling gas knocked what little fresh air she still held on to out of her lungs and replaced it with its unwavering acridity.

Then, it was the female's turn again.

_Bfftt!_

Disgusting, but comparatively innocent. Then it was the man's turn again.

_PBBRRRFFFFT!!_

That fart sounded angry. Maria was pretty sure she even felt the vile colon air blow her hair back some. The smell, as had become expected, was abhorrent. She wished she could give up breathing altogether in that moment.

_Pfff Pssss!_

The lady's volley this time was a two-parter with not even a full second of mercy between the two blasts. This time, the air in that closet had cleared out just enough for Maria to pick up on the unique odor of the female's gas. She immediately wished she hadn't. It stunk of rotten vegetables and bad cheese. A dumpster left out to ferment in the blazing sun would have been a more pleasant stench to inhale. Before she could even wrap her exhausted and tortured mind around just how ferociously stinky that fart was, it was the male's turn, and she could tell he'd been saving up for this one.

_Brrrp! Frrrrtt! Fsssshhh!_

The back-to-back spurts of ass gas sounded so repulsively wet. She was tempted to throw up her hands in front of her to block any debris she thought would accompany those farts, but fortunately for her that wouldn't be necessary. But he still wasn't done.

_Brp! Plllllbbb! BRRRAPPPPPPP!_

That last fart must have registered on the Richter scale, Maria thought. It was so unapologetically hostile. This time, it for sure blew her hair back, and damn near knocked her over as well. She was lucky—though perhaps that wouldn't be the most fitting word—that the closet was so tiny that when she fell backwards, her back immediately hit the wall and kept her from tumbling over entirely.

Its smell was every bit as unrelenting as the wet, burning fart's sound. She could feel herself tearing up, though she couldn't be absolutely sure that it wasn't because she felt so sorry for herself. Breathing in such a repugnant miasma was a punishment she'd never wish upon her worst enemy. It stunk of all the rotting fruits, vegetables, and rancid meat mixed together and poured directly up one's nose. Maria thought for sure she was going to puke despite how empty her stomach already was.

Seemingly aware of the fact that she couldn't top such a brilliant passing of gas, the female skunk settled for just spraying Maria one more time. This spritz was, mercifully, what finally pushed the tortured rescuer over the line. The stink in that hot closet was finally too much, or perhaps it had tipped the very composition of the air and dropped the concentration of oxygen in the air in favor of the aromatic sulfur compounds. Either way, the result was the same: Maria passed out. She slumped forward against the wooden door, slats still slick with repulsive musk—and hopefully not much else.

———

Jordan couldn't tell where he was, but he did know one thing: he'd put distance between himself and that thing that sprayed him. That was all that mattered to him. He was pretty sure he'd lost Maria at some point, but that didn't matter much to him either. He was just looking to preserve his own life, or whatever it was that was at stake here. Such a creature's motives were a complete mystery to the nearly blind man.

Running his hands feverishly along the wall, he was relieved to at last feel what seemed to be a door. He tried the handle, and it opened. Letting himself inside, he shined his flashlight around the room to try and get his bearings. This appeared to have once been someone's bedroom, but it stunk faintly of the same thing that coated his face. He was able to tell that the odor of this new room was separate from the one he carried in with him only because this room's air distinctly smelled stale. It was as if it was weeks old. As his nose adjusted to this bedroom's cacophony of odors, he picked up on the scent of piss as well, equally stale as the musk.

Just as with Maria, he saw a door on the wall opposite him. He prayed it led to an exit, but he didn't get his hopes up. This facility's architecture was designed to insulate against the harsh cold outside, and any door or window leading outside risked letting out the warmth. He doubted there would be more than one, maybe two sealable doors. As such, he presumed this door led to a closet or bathroom. He started across the room to check it out anyway, but stopped as he reached the bed.

He walked in a wide circle around the bed, which stunk most pungently of urine for some reason, and to the bedside table. On top of it was a composition notebook. He shined his flashlight onto its cover.

> Researcher’s Log  
>  Dr. Serena Longley  
>  Antarctica Outpost

Jordan could assume the bedroom he was currently in was once Dr. Longley's. Desperate to find out what could have led to the station being in the monster-infested state it currently was, he flipped to the most recent journal entry. It was pretty short.

> Heard a big boom not far outside the station this evening. Suited up to go investigate. Retrieved golf ball-sized rock from the center of a wide crater in the snow. Will write more after shower.

The fact that this was her final journal entry and that it was about what seemed to presumably be a memory could not be a coincidence. He was certain of it.

But he couldn't dwell on that long. To his horror, he could hear footsteps coming down the hall. He didn't have long to think before deciding on his next move. He scurried, as quietly as he could, to the only other door in the bedroom.

After letting himself in, he got a quick glimpse of this new room before shutting off his flashlight. Unsurprisingly, it was a bathroom. Beside him was a shower with clear panels, and a few feet away were a toilet and sink.

He heard the hallway door open. This was it. There was no escape route left for him should that monster decide to enter the bathroom.

Jordan held his breath as he waited for his fate to be decided for him. As he listened closely to the activity in the adjacent room, he noticed that there were at least two sets of footsteps. "Just my luck," he thought.

Dread crept through his veins as he heard those footsteps meander closer and closer to the bathroom door. Claw-tipped fingers came to rest on the metallic door handle, then paused. In that moment of silence he heard sniffing. It dawned on him that not only could they navigate by smell, but they also possessed the ability to filter out their own wretched stench as they did so.

He heard springs in the door compress as the handle finally began to turn, and Jordan panicked. He sprung up and flung himself into the shower. It opened inward, so all he would have to do to keep those things from joining him in the small stall was push outwards against the clear plastic door.

The creatures busted in shortly after hearing his mad scramble to lock himself in the shower. He shined his light on their direction, no longer worried about keeping his presence a secret. He saw they both resembled that first black-and-white striped thing he found collapsed in the hallway, except one looked quite feminine and the other was relatively masculine. In fact, upon closer examination, they seemed to greatly resemble skunks. Back home, Jordan had seen skunks walking through his yard at night a few times before, but this was definitely his first humanoid one.

They took slow and deliberate steps as they entered the bathroom, the male following the female. From the moment they entered, their sights were set on the man in the shower whose flashlight was illuminating the entire room. The female approached and tried pushing on the door, but Jordan didn't let it budge. She shoved harder, but still he kept it from moving, pushing hard against her to keep himself locked in there.

The lady-skunk made some room, then the male added his weight to the door. Their combined force did cause Jordan to strain and grunt as he hadn't before, but after an intense few seconds of all three of them pushing as hard as they could, the door remained shut.

Panting after proving himself to be stronger than both skunks combined, Jordan looked up to see what they had planned to try next. He didn't even get the chance to hold his nose before the woman, already facing away with her giant monochrome tail high in the air, spray painted the glass panel of that shower door with her sickeningly yellow musk. He watched, eyes wide in horror, as his view of the skunk's bare ass went from unobstructed to filtered through an orange-yellow layer of thick musk. Over the course of a second, the blob of skunk essence on the door grew from two yellow drops to a dripping golden stain the size of a CD.

The smell didn't take long to disseminate throughout the tiny bathroom. In seconds it entered the shower stall and forced its way up Jordan's nostrils, down his throat and into his lungs. This female skunk's musk carried its very own disgusting stench distinct from the earlier male's. It had darker, earthier tones to its vile aroma and Jordan found himself feeling even more nauseous from this indirect shot than he'd felt when he was blasted right in the face by the male.

Jordan wished he could pinch his nose—hell, he wished in that moment that he could cut his nose off entirely—but he had no choice but to keep his arms outstretched in front of him to keep the door closed. He was forced to endure that ungodly stench unfiltered, and he could feel himself weakening as a result.

He coughed and coughed as he tried to rid his passageways of the awful, stinging pressure in his chest, but of course it only continued to worsen. Before long his entire respiratory system burned as if he'd just sucked boiling-hot steam straight out of a gas line.

The skunks could tell he was losing his ability to fight. After a quick exchange of chirps, they both pushed against the transparent shower door. Still, Jordan remained steadfast in refusing to let that door open. He knew that it was the last thing standing between himself and the full wrath of the sickening stenches those two creatures packed. He had to push even after his biceps stung almost as much as his lungs, but after a brutal ten-second-long competition of brute strength, he kept that door shut.

The two skunks finally relented, leaving Jordan to practically hack up a lung as he resisted the urge to vomit. He bowed his head as he tried to force out whatever small amount of bile it felt like he had stuck in his throat. He hardly even noticed as the lady skunk hiked her leg up over her head and rested her sole against the clear plastic of the shower door.

_FFSSSSHHHHHHHHHHHH!!_

In an instant, memories of going through a carwash flooded Jordan's mind. The yellow liquid pelted the glass with such ferocity that the only sound he could compare it to was that of the pressurized hoses designed to scrape dried-on bird shit off cars.

He looked up and saw that this time, it didn't look to be coming from her asshole. She was emptying her bladder right onto the clear surface of the shower door, and all in plain view of Jordan. Clearly these creatures possessed no shame, he concluded, but perhaps he should have figured that out sooner.

The intense barrage of straw-colored fluid kept on coming. Honestly, Jordan found himself impressed by just how long she could keep up such a forceful stream. And that force really could not be understated. He watched as droplets of piss bounced off the surface of the shower door and stained parts of her fur—and even some of the male's—turning it from white to yellow.

Eventually, the awe-inspiring torrent of urine did start to die down, then came to a stop entirely. Jordan's nose twitched as the odor of piss joined the myriad of other fragrances that made that bathroom smell as unbelievably bad as it did. Though its addition to the repulsive miasma was almost unnoticeable given how many far stinkier scents polluted the air, its presence did make staying in that bathroom that much more unbearable.

Despite the absolute hell Jordan felt like his nose was in, he had to smile just a bit. There was no way it was getting worse than this. They'd thrown everything they had at him, and yet he still possessed just enough strength to keep that door closed. He was confident he'd defeated—

_Blllpppt!_

He was yanked out of his smug contemplation when the male skunk passed gas. He wanted to laugh at first—after all, when weren't farts funny?—but he had a sneaking suspicion this was just the beginning of something far more insidious.

He was right.

The penetrating stink of rotten eggs filled his nostrils. He never had any idea that a single fart could ever pack that much sulfur. It was overwhelming, and he could feel his eyes already starting to water.

The female skunk creature chirped in apparent excitement as Jordan looked to finally be cracking. She stared intently into his wet eyes before producing some gas of her own.

_Brrrrrrrrrrappppp!_

Despite their stinging, Jordan's eyes widened in shock. He'd never imagined a woman's ass could produce such a distinctly unladylike fart. Its wetness was only matched by just how unashamed the skunk was to expel it. She held nothing back, and that fact showed in more than just the deafening sound of it.

It took mere seconds for the smell to make its way into his shower stall. All at once, Jordan forgot that there were any other smells in that bathroom. All he could detect—all he could even _conceive of_ —was that hot, rancid, choking plume of chemical warfare that now made its home in his already-punished nose. It forced its way through his sinuses, his lungs, his everything, making sure that every last piece of him bore the scar of its unforgiving stench forever.

After the initial shock of the fart faded, Jordan was finally able to make out every last wretched vicissitude that made up that deadly release of ass gas. It stunk horrifically of decaying meat, rotting vegetables, and most prominently of all, shit. He actually found himself struggling to convince himself that someone had not in fact just dropped a load right on his chest. That girl must've had that fart brewing in her colon for quite a while to really let in marinate in every last nasty scent her body could produce.

Jordan was feeling badly light-headed by this point. He'd all but lost every bit of confidence he once had that he could keep that door closed. Luckily—or perhaps unluckily—for him, the skunks no longer seemed focused on getting through that door. They were engaged in a completely different game with him now.

_BRPPFFFFTT!!_

The male skunk lifted his tail high to allow for proper circulation of his ass perfume around the room. This one smelled much like his first, rotten egg-like fart, though this one was much more intense. Jordan prayed that they didn't just keep getting stinkier and stinkier with each successive fart.

Then, the female released her scent.

_Ffrrrttt!_

It didn't match the intensity of her first fart. Frankly, nothing ever could. That one was a special, one-in-a-million kind of rancid.

_BrrrrrrRRRRRppppp!_

More of the same, excessively sulfuric stench. This time the male skunk chirped in excitement as he let out the sustained and excessively squeaky fart. 

Perhaps it was just his imagination and fading consciousness, but it was at this point that Jordan started to think that the entire bathroom was steaming up as if slowly filling with fog. As he looked at the far wall, he thought he could see a faint haze tinting it slightly yellow. Could this really be happening? Could someone's flatulence really be so wet and thick that it could actually be seen floating in the air?

Luckily for him, he'd never get a definite answer. The female skunk had hiked her leg up high just as she did when getting ready to piss. This time, though, it wasn't the furious stream of hot piss bombarding the shower door that he had the misfortune to listen to.

_HHISSSSSSssssshhhhhhhhhhh!_

The sound was unmistakable. She'd spread her ass cheeks as wide as she could and let out a silent-but-deadly at the same time as she sprayed. What his ears had just been treated to was the stomach-churning hiss of hot air and musk rushing out of her anus and into the atmosphere.

It didn't even take a second for the dual scents to reach Jordan's nose. He didn't think she could seriously unleash something so unholy twice in one night, but here he stood corrected. This fart stunk just as badly, if not worse, than that first fart she'd let out. And on top of that, she'd paired with her unbreathable spray. His previous exposure to the nasty fumes didn't at all lessen the suffering he experienced the second time around.

This was it, and he knew it. Jordan's vision went blurry and the room spun. He could only barely reach a hand out in front of him to break his fall as he fell limp on the tile floor.

———

It wasn't uncommon for Maria back home to struggle to get out of bed. Especially on those days when her apartment was cold but her sheets were so warm, she'd give almost anything just to remain in that safe, cozy embrace of unconsciousness.

Her desire not to wake up in this moment was so much greater than any time she'd wanted to stay in bed before. As fitful as her brief rest was, she at least didn't have to feel the toxic, stinging air filling her lungs with each breath she took when she'd been knocked out.

Though something in her subconscious had been warning her not to breathe too deeply as she slowly transitioned from a sleeping to a waking state, that all was disregarded as she saw the freaky, skunk-like face on a human body staring down at her. Its unnaturalness was matched only by the blankness of its stare. Alarmed, she gasped, which just launched her into a coughing fit. That, in turn, woke Jordan.

His hand immediately flew up to his face as he hurried to pinch his nose. That not being nearly enough to block out the stench that permeated the entire base's atmosphere, Jordan rolled over onto his belly, pressing his face against the chill concrete floor.

Maria found it hard to take her eyes off the thing staring down at her, its face illuminated by the same stinking oil lamp she'd seen—and smelled—before. It hovered above her with its neck bent at nearly a ninety-degree angle. She looked to her side and, sure enough, its black, furry feet were right there beside her head, just inches away. They smelled gross as well, but nothing could ever compare what she'd been subjected to in that closet. After all her nose had been through that night, Maria felt like she'd earned the right to be called a veteran.

Turning her head in the opposite direction from the set of feet, she looked over at Jordan. To her horror, two of the black-and-white creatures were creeping up on him, one from in front and one from behind him. Before she could even shout anything to warn him, the skunk thing approaching from behind bent down, wrapped its hairy arms around his torso, and lifted him off the ground. The man, naturally, shouted and yelled in protest as he was picked up by some unforeseen creature behind him.

Still, no matter how much he struggled, he couldn't break free of the grip. His chances didn't improve when, as he was being held upright from behind by one male skunk, the other walked up to him. Jordan feebly kicked his legs at the man in front of him, but none of the hits seemed to meaningfully connect before the other got too close.

Now, Jordan couldn't kick at all. His legs, along with the rest of his body, were now sandwiched between the overgrown skunk men. Maria couldn't figure out why they were doing this, and her questions were hardly answered when Jordan started shouting all over again.

"Hey! Hey!" the man barked at the skunks before turning to look at Maria. "They're pissing on me!"

As she looked closer, Maria could see he was telling the truth. The white, wool-lined layer of his shirt was turning a dark yellow, and there was a light trickling sound in the room as some of the urine ran down Jordan's legs and onto the floor.

Maria backed away from the scene, crawling backwards on her hands to get away from it, the gross stench of dehydrated pee already filling her nostrils. She was stopped, however, by the female skunk who'd been watching over her this whole time. The thing crouched down, placed its hands on either side of Maria's head, and forced her to watch what was happening to her rescue partner.

"Wait. What? What's…?" he said. Maria could tell Jordan was confused about something, but she couldn't quite tell what. He was getting urinated on. That was of course gross and unusual, but relatively straightforward and not confusing.

But then he started really screaming. Jordan shouted at the top of his lungs, "No!! Get the fuck away from me! Stop it!!"

Seconds later, Maria saw the source of his concern. Black fur was popping out from underneath his tight shirt. The form-fitting piece of clothing even started to burst at the seams as it could hardly contain the sudden increase in volume underneath it.

It finally dawned on Maria what was happening: Jordan was transforming into one of them, and all it took was contact with the creatures' urine.

That was it for her. She knew she had to risk everything to get away from them. She didn't want to end up like them.

Maria jabbed her elbow as hard as she could into the gut of the skunk currently restraining her. To her surprise, it actually worked, and Maria ran off through the doorway that she thought had the best chance of taking her to an exit.

Her luck did not last, however. She looked over her shoulder to see if she was being chased, and in that exact moment, she received a faceful of noxious musk straight from the lady skunk's asshole.

The stench was abhorrent. The taste of it she got as some made it into her mouth was almost just as bad. But the very worst part for Maria was how it affected her chances of escaping here untransformed: she was functionally blind now.

All she saw before her vision left her was a torrent of yellow. She would have lost track of where she was headed and given up hope entirely if it weren't for one thing: she could still vaguely make out the brightness of the oil lamp burning in the room she'd just fled. Using that light as a reference point, she kept heading in what she was pretty sure was the right direction.

The lighting around Maria grew darker, and from this she could infer that she'd entered a new room. She cautiously advanced forward with her arms in front of her until she found a wall, then shuffled along it. When she found a perpendicular wall a few steps later, she knew she'd just backed herself into a corner.

Terrified, the woman spun around and tried to identify the light source from before. She could see it, but it was much dimmer now. Then, it was all but blocked out by another dark figure.

_Ssssppfft!_

Another shot of vile spray straight to the face. She screamed in pain. It stunk so, so bad. Words would fail to accurately describe such a direct, heavy dousing. Absolutely nothing was held back, and that fact showed in just how much it drenched Maria's clothing. If she did survive the encounter at this point, she knew she'd have to burn her entire outfit. There was simply no hope of ever salvaging it given how deeply the musk permeated each thread.

But she couldn't give much consideration to her clothes at this moment. After making a 180° turn away from the wall she'd just discovered, she sprinted wherever her legs would take her. As it would turn out, this would do the opposite of improve her situation.

She managed to run uninterrupted for long enough that she thought she may have actually found a hallway leading out of this God-forsaken research station. Hell, at this point, she'd rather face the Antarctic cold in her soaked clothing than stay inside.

But any hope of escape was snuffed out when she realized what she'd just collided with. Maria ran face-first into a massive, upright skunk tail. Of course she'd been completely unable to see this ahead of her in her current vision-impaired state. The next thing to take place was far from unexpected.

She was sprayed. All over, up and down, multiple times. She counted three separate dispersals of that horrid musk before the shock finally subsided enough to turn around once again and run. But she didn't get far before the nausea struck back hard.

Hunching over as bile rose in her throat, Maria stayed determined to find an escape route. This time, she ran towards the only light source she could. There were at least two skunks in this room adjacent to the one she woke up in. What were the odds that there were still some left in that first room?

Very good, as it turned out.

She could hear joyful skunk chirping from multiple directions as she neared the lantern. Squinting through the refractions of light off both her tears and the musk, she tried to identify a new escape route, and that's when she was double-teamed from her left and her right.

The nausea was now impossible to ignore. She doubled over and vomited on the floor just in front of the lantern, her one and only beacon of hope in that dark fortress. And as she emptied the contents of her stomach and felt the caustic stomach acid burn her throat, one of those unspeakable beasts stepped forward and extinguished the light source by pinching it between their fingers.

This was it. Maria knew it for a fact. She was doomed.

Once the majority of her puke was out, each of her arms were grabbed by a skunk. She didn't even have the strength in her to fight back anymore. She resigned to just taking what was given to her.

Maria was forced onto her knees. Someone approached in front of her, but she was completely unable to see who. She inferred that these things must have excellent night vision in addition to their more vile traits. Make no mistake, her sight was still incredibly blurry due to that first shot she took to the face, but it was still pitch-black in that room. Even if she had her full vision restored, she was confident she'd be unable to see around the room.

It became readily apparent that the skunk thing in front of her now was male: he was rubbing his dick all across her face. It was flaccid, so he had full control over caressing her skin with the tip, the shaft, even the balls. Maria felt herself growing increasingly humiliated and angry. Why wasn't he just doing it already? Why could he just transform her and get it over with?!

Then, she felt a fourth approach from behind. Presuming Jordan had not yet fully shifted, she was surrounded—in front, behind, to the left, and to the right—by every skunk-human monstrosity in the building. She shut her eyes and waited for the inevitable.

From the moment the first trickle of hot urine trickled down her back, Maria knew her fate was sealed. She didn't even cry, but whether that was because she'd accepted her fate or purely because she was exhausted, she'd never know.

Then, the penis on her face started to unload. She sealed her lips tight shut, but that didn't stop her from experiencing something worse than the taste of this urine: the smell. She found herself wondering if the skunks didn't know how to operate the base's water resources, because the piss was so aromatic she swore they must have been dehydrated. She wished she could breathe through her mouth to avoid the smell, but that would just risk getting the excrement on her tongue. Truly, she didn't know if the trade-off would even be worth it.

Maria felt the first tufts of fur sprout out of her back, the first area on which she'd been urinated. Somehow the skunk creatures seemed to pick up on the fact that the transformation was underway, as shortly after the hair started to grow they all released her. Seemingly satisfied with their work, they all left the room. It seemed almost like they were letting her transform in peace.

In her last few moments of humanity, Maria crawled over to where Jordan had been. He was no longer there, but he did find a small, rectangular device. She squeezed it hoping to find a button and, to her delight, the screen lit up. It was Jordan's walkie-talkie.

With what little control over herself she had left, Maria pushed down on the talk button. This would be her last hope of alerting their pilot to the situation and saving Rob, and maybe even the whole world.

"Rob!" she shouted into the device as she crawled around trying to find the one part of the research station that allowed for radio contact with the helicopter: the entrance. "Rob! Rob!"

Shining the weak light from the device's screen around, she finally found the hallway that she recognized as the one she'd first walked down when she got to the base. She had no idea how much time had passed between now and then. Thirty minutes? Several hours? Hell, an entire day? It was impossible to tell, but she knew it felt like a lifetime. She wished she could go back in time and tell her earlier self that when she smelled that skunky scent, turn around. Turn around and run. Never come back. There was nothing but suffering here.

But it was too late for that now. She had to focus on alerting Rob. She knew she was running out of time. The fur had covered nearly her entire body by this point. The time remaining of her humanity was measured in seconds now, if not fractions of a second.

"Rob, Rob!" she shouted over the radio. "Rob, t-turn around! Run! Never come back! Suffering, there's… Rob… Go. Go…" She tried to keep saying words, but all she could muster now were chirp-like sounds. Claws extended from her fingertips, and she could no longer hold down the talk button on the walkie-talkie as she was accustomed to. This was it for Maria. It was in Rob's hands now.

———

"Come again, over?" the pilot said into his radio. "Maria, you're breaking up. Repeat, over."

He looked at his fuel gauge. He didn't have any choice at this point. This was the first he heard of the rescue crew in the past several hours, and keeping the helicopter running that entire team had almost entirely exhausted his fuel supply.

He'd be forced to abandon them there. He wasn't even sure at this point that he had enough fuel to carry himself back to the polar vessel safely.

Cursing, he started to pull up and lift his vehicle into the air, but it seemed to be resisting. There wasn't so little fuel now that the helicopter should have trouble getting itself airborne. The only other explanation would be that the ship had acquired new weight.

Dumbfounded, he looked over his shoulder. There, staring back at him were a pair of eyes.

———

**Alt. ending:**

They were probably the cutest eyes he'd ever seen. There was a penguin sitting in the cabin with him!

"How'd you get in here without me noticing, little guy?" Rob chuckled. "Well, I'm gonna need you to get off now, sorry buddy!" He reached back to lift the flightless bird up, but it spun around just as he did so.

It had a striped tail raised high in the air, and he received a faceful of stinking musk. For some reason unknown to him it smelled like skunk. He shouted and rubbed his eyes.

Panicking, he opened the pilot-side door and bailed out. After rubbing his face in the snow in an attempt to cool the stinging in his eyes and nose, he looked up.

There had to be dozens of orange webbed feet there. And the bodies they were connected to were far too furry to belong to normal penguins.

Terrified, Rob slowly raised his head up, and that's when the rain of piss began.

[🐧 + 🦨](https://youtu.be/q3xEGOvg2kk)


End file.
